


Best Friends Day

by WingsOfTime



Series: ikael [11]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Valentione's Day, a poignant lack of romance, fun times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13689828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsOfTime/pseuds/WingsOfTime
Summary: "Valentione's day" is so... connotative. And what happens if you do not have one, hm? There must be more to it than discount chocolates and sweets the next day.





	Best Friends Day

**Author's Note:**

> short, sweet, and fluffy. enjoy!

“You are… the sweetest person,” Thancred croons, swaying into Ikael.

Ikael catches him with minimum stumbling. “Oh _noo_ ,” he says back. “You… _you_ are. _You_ are the sweetest… _everything_.” He feels himself start to tear up.

“Please kill me,” says Y'shtola.

“How long will they… stay like this?” Alisaie ventures hesitantly. She looks as if she does not want to know the answer.

Ikael coos at her—Alisaie is such a _dear_. All of his friends are… so amazing.

“I do not know exactly,” he hears Y’shtola say, but he is not paying attention to her, because Alisaie is so _nice_ and _good_ —he pets her hair lovingly. It is fluffy.

“Uh,” she says.

“The dosage of potion that was put into their tea was not too strong,” Y'shtola is still talking, “From what I can gather. With what I have done to reverse it… I would say roughly an hour or so more of this… behaviour remains.”

“Oh, great,” says Alisaie.

“You are,” Thancred tells Y'shtola, “ _So_ smart. So smart. And also—”

“I am going to stop you right there,” she replies, holding up a hand—which is mean, because Thancred is _right_ —she is _so_ smart, and such a good person, and her tail is pretty— “No. Whatever trite nonsense you were about to say, you may save it. How did this even happen? Do you not know better than to accept any drink that is handed to you?”

Ikael pouts, because _that_ is not fair—he has been drugged… a lot, and Thancred says that he is “gullible and thus easily preyed upon” (which doesn’t sound too nice but Ikael is sure that he meant it in a friendly way), so it is… not his fault. Right. People should be… _nicer_.

“I know what happened,” Ikael interjects before Thancred can say any more things that Y'shtola does not want him to—he looks like he is about to. And Ikael _does_ know what happened.

Mostly.

~*~

       It is Valentione’s day in Gridania—the day of everlasting love, of skirt-lifting romance, of passionate embraces—and Thancred is… inside, doing nothing, staring at five perfect rows of pink frosted cupcakes that his (available but definitely not romantically interested) friend has apparently made for just the two of them.

“So… I decided on vanilla,” Ikael says after Thancred has spent an entire minute saying nothing, “Because chocolate would have been too rich, and strawberry too sweet, you know? And besides, they would have both clashed with the icing.”

Ikael’s knowledge of colour theory is… limited, Thancred knows. He stares at a perfectly made pink swirl.

“Uh…” Ikael continues awkwardly, “And vanilla is a… an empty palate, you know? It’s, um…” He ducks his head to scratch at his ear, “impressionable? You can make impressions on it? Is that how…”

He trails off. He hadn’t used _any_ of those words correctly, Thancred thinks absently.

“Please say something,” Ikael blurts out.

“Hm?” Thancred looks up at him. Ikael’s gaze is bright and worried, and his tail is twitching nervously. “Oh! Yes, they look perfect, Ikael. Well done.”

Thancred smiles. Ikael looks even more worried.

“Is it… the pink? Do you not like the colour pink?” he asks anxiously. “I know it’s Best Friends Day for us, as we had agreed—” Ikael had spontaneously decided that, Thancred thinks in amusement. “—but pink is a nice colour, right? A-and it’s everywhere right now, and—oh no, should I have made them red? I’m so sor—”

“Ikael.” Thancred plants his hands on Ikael’s shoulders before he can blabber himself into a nervous breakdown. “They look incredibly appetizing, and I do not know how we shall eat…” He does some quick multiplication. “…Thirty cupcakes by ourselves, but we can most certainly try. I was, ah… merely reflecting on the circumstances of my… of _our_ current situation.”

“Oh, okay,” Ikael says. “And, uh… I guess thirty is a bit much…”

Thancred nods, a little fervently. It is a _lot_ much.

“… But we can… share them? I just…” Ikael hesitates, glancing down. “I don’t really like having romance shoved in my face at every possible opportunity on Valentione’s day. Although… people might think we are a couple and leave me alone.”

People will _definitely_ think they are a couple. Thancred hums in agreement and says, “They always do. ’Tis no matter, my friend—it is a day to celebrate and have fun! If you do not wish to partake, that is of course fine, but you might be missing out.”

Ikael looks indecisive, but Thancred gives him a ridiculous look and spreads his hands, and he seems to slowly give in.

“… Okay,” he says hesitantly, eyes unsure but open. “If… you say so. I trust your judgement, Thancred.”

“Ha,” Thancred says nervously, suddenly a whole lot more apprehensive about the whole situation. “It will be fun, I promise. And it is the day of love! What could possibly go wrong?”

~*~

“Oh, there—a child.” Thancred points, and Ikael spins around. “He’ll want one.”

“What is a kid doing out on Valentione’s day?” Ikael hisses, but jogs over to the child nevertheless. Thancred follows, quickly snagging one of the few remaining cupcakes before the handsy little grubber can take all that is left.

Ikael does not even have to open his mouth before the child lights up.

“Cupcakes!” he exclaims. “Oh, can I have one, Mister Cat Man? Please?”

“Aha, sure!” says Ikael with a stretched smile, and Thancred grins in delight. A _Doman_ child, then, apparently come all the way from Mor Dhona for the festivities. It is a stroke of luck—Ikael had been… _so_ accommodating to all of the pestering and tail-tugging when they had first arrived at Revenant’s Toll.

The child takes a cupcake and immediately starts licking at the icing. Ikael laughs, evidently charmed despite the nickname (although he had to be used to it by now).

They give the last two cupcakes to a grouchy-looking couple arguing by a bright red heart balloon—the look on their face is worth the sacrifice of sugar—and then Ikael is needling Thancred about having something to eat.

“Well, you should have eaten your own food,” says Thancred, crossing his arms.

Ikael raises an eyebrow. “You only took two,” he points out. “You have to be hungry as well.”

Thancred had taken three, actually, but he is not going to tell Ikael that. “It is all overpriced, anyways,” he declares, waving his hand dismissively. “You can probably cook… hey, where are you going?”

“They have a _discount_!” Ikael says excitedly as Thancred runs to catch up to him.

“Who…” Thancred peers ahead. “That is for couples, Ikael. We’re not—”

“Do you want cheap food or not? Hold my hand… here. Ew—your palm is sweaty.”

“That is you, not me. Ikael, we’re not a—”

“I’m _hungry,_ Thancred. Get over yourself.”

Thancred sighs dramatically. “You are so cruel to me,” he mutters, but does not protest otherwise, because the food _does_ look good and the couples discount marks it as half off, apparently.

“Hello!” Ikael chirps at the vendor. “This is my lover, Thancred, who is very handsome and good in bed. May we have cheap food?”

Thancred feels himself die a little inside. Subtlety is… an art form, and one that Ikael apparently lacks any skill in. However, the pink, red, and white-clad elezen simply looks at them in surprise, then laughs good-naturedly.

“There is no need to reassure me, my dear!” she says. “I can tell, with the way you two are all over each other.” She winks, and turns around to pick out two miq’abobs from her display.

“Uh,” says Ikael, exchanging a glance with Thancred, who shrugs. He does not mind. They are standing fairly close together, after all.

“The miq’abobs are complimentary for miqo’te couples,” the vendor, whose nametag reads _Suzanne_ , says to Ikael. “Although even if your… boytoy,” she winks, “is not one, I shall give you an extra because you just seem so sweet. I saw you handing out cupcakes earlier! That was nice of you.”

Ikael stammers, going a bit pink with… indignation? “Thancred is not a ‘boytoy!’” he exclaims, and Thancred does not know whether to laugh or cry. “He… has a million redeeming qualities, and he’s always very sweet to me—except when he’s being an arse—and he’s _lovely_ and gives very nice hugs, and—”

“Ikael,” Thancred says in gentle amusement, “it is alright. She was not being serious.” Ikael looks at him in dismay, but relaxes when he sees his expression.

Thancred shakes his head with a chuckle, and turns to Suzanne, who is regarding Ikael with a bemused smile. “Thank you for the miqa’bobs. May we also have… that fried dish right there and… what do you want?... Okay; and that one, please.”

While Ikael fishes for his coin purse, Thancred easily counts out and hands over the proper amount of gil. He takes the food, thanking Suzanne, and drags Ikael away by the elbow.

“Wait! I have…” Ikael is still, now somewhat frantically, searching for his money. “I can pay you back for that—I swear I brought it…”

“You probably forgot,” Thancred reassures, subtly shifting his own coat to make sure Ikael’s coin purse is still in it. Yes—he can feel its shape. “’Tis no matter—you are not good with money, anyhow. Why, you would probably want to buy up half the festival to distribute to the Scions!”

From the look on Ikael’s face, he had planned to do just that. Thancred feels suddenly grateful for his roguish talents. “You can pay me back for the food later,” he assures, entirely intent on forgetting the matter.

Ikael sighs and grumbles a little, but Thancred waves the miq’abobs in his face, and he happily takes one.  

They sit on the railing of a little bridge a ways away from the festivities to eat. Ikael happily tears meat and tomatoes off the miq’abobs with his teeth, tail swaying cheerfully behind him, and Thancred eats his food at a more moderate pace, because _he_ is not part animal.

Fresh green water rushes below them, and around and about, the sounds and smells of the festival are vibrant and alive. Ikael kicks his legs and licks the grease off the miq’abob sticks, Thancred makes a face, and Ikael laugh and pokes him with one. It is pleasant fun, and Thancred is glad they went out. Best Friends Day indeed.

“Ikael Jelaar!” someone yells as Ikael is attempting to prove to Thancred that he can balance on the tiptoes of one leg without using his tail. He yelps, flails, and starts to fall.

Thancred leans forward and catches him, hooking his ankles around the railing’s support and grunting when the stone digs into them at a painful angle. Ikael quickly and deftly climbs back up.

“You cheated,” Thancred tells him, tipping his chin at his tail. Ikael sticks out his tongue in response.  

“ _Ikael_ ,” enthuses the newcomer, running up to them without waiting to be noticed. She is another elezen—gods, they’re everywhere today—dressed in loud, bright clothing, holding what appears to be a large and flamboyant lute.

“Uh…” Ikael gives her a quick once-over in the way he does when he is trying to remember someone. “… Louisette?” he ventures.

She spreads a hand on her chest. “You remembered!” she exclaims with a wink. “I am _flattered_. And who is _this_ handsome hyur, hm? Have you finally found someone?”

“Uh…” Ikael winces. “No, this is my friend Thancred—”

“ _Just_ a friend?” Louisette winks again, and offers Thancred her hand, which he takes with a kiss.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear lady,” he says.

“Oh, a charmer, is he?” Louisette raises her eyebrows at Ikael, who smiles uncomfortably. “I am unfortunately taken, but really Ikael, you need someone to give you _oodles_ of love and attention! I have never met another man who so desperately cannot be single in my _life_.”

She finishes this last statement with her hands on her hips. From the look she is giving Thancred, it is awkwardly clear that she is either expecting him to agree, or to suddenly jump up and declare his undying love for a very dear, very close… _friend_.

Thancred exchanges a discreet glance with Ikael, and begins to gather up their garbage. He should probably stay out of this.

“I remember you now,” Ikael says. “You were that… uh. That _person_. Listen, um, Louisette, I… appreciate your opinion, but really, I am perfectly happy by myself. I have friends.”

 _Ooh_. Wrong thing to say. Thancred bends down to pick up some litter that had fallen by the edge of the railing.

As Thancred expects, Louisette continues to provide her unsolicited advice. “Friends?” She clicks her tongue. “Oh, you poor little kitten. Friends cannot hold your hands and shower you with kisses! Friends cannot give you the _love_ that you secretly _crave_ —”

“Louisette,” Ikael says pointedly, sounding uncomfortable, “It is… nice to see you again. But you are being…” he glances at Thancred, who shrugs. “… inappropriate. I can assure you that I am quite content as I am.”

He is on a roll! Thancred squeezes his tail lightly as praise.

“If I am truly ‘craving’ any love, I can go to a brothel,” Ikael continues, and Thancred nearly hits his head on the railing.

From the look on Louisette’s face, she had not expected him to say that either. Ikael straightens up, apparently gaining confidence, and keeps going.

“Thancred is _not_ my type,” he says. “I mean… I don’t think I would sleep with… Ugh, actually. No.”

“Hey,” Thancred interjects, because that chips at his ego a bit.

“… Oh, _gods_.” Ikael seems to have dug himself into an inescapable mental pit. “Ew. _Ew._ _No_. No. Definitely not, actually.”

“Okay; the extra words are a little redundant.”

“I mean, I actually _know_ you now. _No._ ”

“You can stop at any time. I think she gets it.”

“You are not even that attractive! And the bandana makes you look old.”

“No, really. You can stop.”

“Gods, you’re… _old_ , aren’t you? Didn’t you say a while back that you met F’lhaminn fifteen years ago? How old are—”

“A _hem_.” Thancred cuts him off loudly. “My dear lady,” he says to Louisette, “I apologize about Ikael—that is to say, about _this_ part of the conversation. But I can assure you, if your interests _are_ for his happiness, that he gets a lot of attention—far too much, probably—and is heavily doted upon whenever he bakes anything sweet. He is fine.”

“Do you think Simeon would… be down for it?” Ikael wonders out loud. “Or up for it, I supp—”

“ _Terribly_ sorry,” Thancred says, gently escorting a stunned Louisette away, “’Tis one of his bad days. You know how miqo’te can be.”

“—I _heard_ that, you decrepit old _arse_ —”

“Have a nice Valentione’s day with your partner!” Thancred waves her off cheerfully. “Do try the miq’abobs—they are quite good, or so I’ve been told.”

He goes back to Ikael, who has sprawled himself out along the railing. Thancred sits next to his head and scratches at his ears briefly as acknowledgment.

“I want to relax,” Ikael says, looking up at him, “After that. Ugh—I am so _tired_ of people badgering me about my love life! I am happily single! No, I am not miserable! Why does everyone think I am miserable?!”

Thancred hums sympathetically as Ikael pouts. “We can go to that quiet little area over there, hm?” he suggests. “It appears to be some sort of café—you like those kinds of places, right?”

Ikael sighs and sits up. “Huh,” he mutters, looking over at the area Thancred has pointed out. A polished wooden board is peeking out from behind dense green foliage. The writing is illegible at this distance, but they can see a few tables scattered about behind it, the people seated at them speaking intimately but quietly, and the entire setup lacks any loud and glaring shades of pink. It looks rather calm, compared to the rest of the city.

Ikael agrees, and they make their way over. They are directed to a small drink counter of made of rich, dark wood, manned by a solemn-looking lalafell. He looks up at them with a smile as they approach.

“Good afternoon, sers,” he greets in a surprisingly deep voice. “Fancy a sip of Sakura tea? Guaranteed to make you feel sweet.”

“Hopefully sweet enough to be single on Valentione’s day and not be pestered about it,” Ikael mutters, and the lalafell laughs, rich and soft.

“Definitely sweet enough to make being single a non-issue,” he replies, which will strike Thancred as an odd thing to say when he thinks back on it later, although at the moment he does not pay the words much heed. “Ten gil a cup, thank you!”

Thancred slides twenty gil across the counter, and the lalafell takes it with a wink and a small bow. He pours out two small cups of a pink, sweet-smelling liquid, and sprinkles something bright and aether-tinted into them. When Thancred looks, the tea is clear.

“Special ingredient,” says the lalafell when he catches his glance.

“Thank you,” Thancred replies, taking the cups. “My friend really does need this. He is a high-strung sort of fellow, you know?”

He dances out of the way of Ikael’ swipe, darting over to a small table for two. Ikael joins him, and sniffs at the tea before taking a careful sip.

“Sweet,” he comments as Thancred follows suit.

~*~

“That is _it_?” Y'shtola interrupts, crossing her arms. “You tell that entire, pointless story, just for the _actual_ reason to be ‘We bought the tea because we wanted tea.’ Really?”

Ikael holds up his hands. He is doing his best! “I am sorry my non-dramatic tale does not meet your standards,” he says. “But really, that was all that happened.”

“I agree with Y'shtola,” Alisaie says with a frown. “Oh come now, you could not have made something up? I thought for sure Louisette had cast some sort of bardic curse of true love on you or some such… ah… nonsense.”

“Someone reads too many romance novels,” Thancred teases with a wink. Alisaie makes a perfect, indignant scoff.

“ _Someone_ overcompensates,” she returns.

“You two are lucky it has mostly worn off by now,” Y'shtola tells them. “Elsewise, Ikael, I fear you would be left with no end of clinging admirers. Or no dignity. Either one.”

“Are you saying that _my_ talents would not garner me admirers?” Thancred questions, raising an eyebrow.

“You would have gotten yourself thrown into the river,” says Y'shtola.

Thancred pouts good-naturedly, and they laugh at him. After a moment, he joins in.

“Well, I am glad you have decided you do not need a romantic partner to be complete,” Alisaie tells Ikael with an amicable smile. “After all, you have us, do you not? And Thancred, I suppose.”

“And you are all more than enough,” Ikael says, smiling back at her and ruffling her hair. She sighs good-naturedly, but does not reach up to fix it.

“You are such a sap,” Thancred complains, rolling his eyes. “Come then, let us grab what useless pink souvenirs we can before the celebrations come to a close. Apparently there is a flying chair somewhere…”

Ikael doubts that. However, he is with friends, and they are all happy, so he will endeavour to enjoy Best Friends Day to its fullest extent.  

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> not every story has to involve murder or deep-seated psychological issues! yay
> 
> (want a valentine? want to give the weenie a valentine? [ tumblr ](http://draw-you-coward.tumblr.com/):)


End file.
